The Man in White
by YT1
Summary: Ketiya, a ranger, tells the tale of how she befriended a strange traveler she met at an inn one rainy evening - and after that, things were never the same again. This story takes place shortly after Episode 3.
1. Introduction

The Man in White

A _Samurai Jack_ fanfic by YT

Ketiya, a ranger, tells the tale of how she befriended a strange traveler she met at an inn one rainy evening.

This story takes place shortly after Episode 4.

The cartoon series _Samurai Jack,_ upon which this story is based, was created by Gennedy Tartakovsky and is copyrighted to Cartoon Network. While I don't have official permission to use the series concept as a basis for my own story, I do so with the best of intentions and the utmost respect for the show's creator.

If you want to reprint my story in part or as a whole, please give me credit for writing it.

!! 


	2. Chapter 1: Different Kinds of Weird

Long ago in a distant land, I, Aku, the shape-shifting master of darkness, unleashed an unspeakable evil.  But a foolish samurai warrior, wielding a magic sword, stepped forth to oppose me.

_Before the final blow was struck, I tore open a portal in time, and flung him into the future, where my evil is law._

_Now, the fool seeks to return to the past, and undo the future that is Aku._

~***~

            When I stepped into the common room of the inn, the heat and noise were a relief from the chill pouring rain and howling wind outside.  Not that it was a comfortable place - it was dim, smoky, loud and smelly, full of rough types who were just itching to start a fight.  You could barely hear the thunder outside for the din.  Had the weather been better, I would have slept outside instead of spending the night in this dive.  But I had no other options.  I pulled off my hood, shook some of the water off my cloak and took a look around the place.

            The common room was square, constructed of dark wood.  Oil lamps hung from the walls and ceiling, casting (barely) adequate light to see by.  Directly opposite the door, in the far wall, was a big stone fireplace.  To the right of that was a swinging door that led to the kitchens – maids with trays of food and drink, or empty plates and cups, were walking in and out of it.  On the wall to the right of me was a long glass window, through which I could see nothing but darkness – except when the lightning flashed, and then all I could see were shapes distorted by the driving rain against the panes.  To the left of me was a long wooden counter, where the innkeeper checked in customers.  Beyond that was another door, which probably led to the stairs and thence into the rooms.

            There were round tables throughout the common room, and all of them were occupied.  People were sitting around the tables, doing what people usually do in places like this – drinking, singing, eating, having conversations at the tops of their voices, and making lewd comments at the maids.  I went to the counter and arranged for room to sleep in.  Then I looked for a table.

            I was soaked and chilled to the bone, so I made my way to the tables closest to the fire.  One was occupied by a couple of thugs engaged in an arm-wrestling match – no good.  A fellow with green, scaly skin and webbed fingers was passed out drunk on another table.  I considered dislodging him and taking his seat, but decided against it.  He was twice as big as I was, and if he came to I'd be in big trouble.  So that wasn't an option either.

            The third table, which was right in front of the fireplace, seemed like the best option.  The sole occupant of said table was a man in a white robe, with a wide-brimmed hat of woven straw on his head.  He was eating what looked like steamed vegetables out of a small bowl – that in itself wasn't unusual, but he was using a pair of little wooden sticks to lift each morsel of food to his mouth.  He was sitting with his back to the fire, ignoring the general ruckus going on around him.  As I walked around the table to speak to him, I noticed the strange sword he wore at his side.  It was long, slender and slightly curved, with a narrow grip wrapped in black cloth.

            While there were many weird folk in the inn that night, most of them were a _familiar_ sort of weird.  They were _normal_ weird.  _This_ guy, however, was in an altogether different class of weird.  That made me pause for a moment.  Most other people would have left to find another table.

            My curiosity is going to get me killed someday.

            "Excuse me," I addressed him as politely as I could, though I had to shout over the din.

            He turned and looked up at me.  Now I could see his face clearly – he was somewhere in his mid-twenties, with high cheekbones, a straight nose and oddly tilted eyes, so deep brown that they were almost black.  He regarded me carefully for a moment.  "Yes?"

            "Would you mind if I sat down here?  I'm absolutely soaked and I need to dry off."  I put on my best smile.  "Please?"

            He looked me in the eye for a moment, which made me sort of uncomfortable.  Then he nodded.  "I do not mind at all.  Please sit down."  He surprised me by standing up and moving to an adjacent chair, so that I could sit closer to the fire.  He was polite - very weird indeed.

            I thanked him and removed my quiver of arrows to hang it on the back of the chair he had vacated.  I also checked the contents of the attached bow case to see if they were dry – they were, so I didn't need to restring it.  Satisfied, I sat down  and called over a passing maid to order some warm cider and something to eat.  While I waited for my supper, I regarded my quiet companion, who had resumed eating his food.  I wondered where he came from – not anywhere I knew of, certainly.

            "Thanks again for letting me sit here, mister…I don't think I got your name?"  He looked up again.

            "I am called Jack," he told me.  I didn't even consider asking whether or not it was his real name – I knew the answer already.

            "My name's Ketiya.  Pleased to make your acquaintance."  I inclined my head politely.  He did the same.  "So…what brings you to the middle of nowhere?"

            It was then that the maid brought my supper.  She put it on the table and I gave her a silver coin to pay for it.  Then I turned to Jack again.

            "I am only passing through."  I should have guessed that I wouldn't get a straight answer out of him.

            "I'm on my way to the coast.  Trying to find something to keep myself occupied and my purse full."  I picked up my knife and fork and started cutting the steak on my plate.  "Where are you from?"  Okay, so that wasn't exactly subtle, but I'm not good at subtle.  At least, not in the conversational sense.

            "A long way from here," was his reply.  _Ah.  So._  Now I saw it as a challenge – I just _had_ to find out something about this character.

            I wondered about how to do that while I ate my supper.  I was so occupied with the challenge that I didn't notice the big guy in bearskins until he hauled me out of my seat by the front of my tunic.  He held me uncomfortably close to his face – I nearly passed out at the smell of his breath.  I judged that he'd recently imbibed some very strong alcohol.

            "You're in my seat," he growled.  Well, I certainly wasn't in it anymore, but it would not have been prudent to point that out.  The common room had gone quiet – almost everyone was staring at us.

            Even if he was in the wrong here, I didn't want to press the issue.  Hey, I'm not a coward, but I'm not that stupid either.  "Sorry, sorry…didn't know it was your place.  I'll move, really.  Just put me down."  With a sinking feeling I realized that it wasn't about the chair I'd been in, but the mood _he _was in.  Which meant that I was in big trouble.  I got ready to pull a dagger out of my boot, hoping that I could do unto him before he did unto me.


	3. Chapter 2: Breaking and Bonding

            "Please put her down."  I hadn't noticed Jack move, but now he was standing by the big guy's left shoulder.  "There is no need to cause trouble."

            Mr. Sunshine growled at him.  "Buzz off.  This ain't your business."  With his left hand, he flicked off Jack's straw hat.  It fell into the fireplace and caught almost instantly.  Jack's eyes narrowed dangerously.  I noticed that he was clenching his fists.

            I really didn't want to see him get hurt.  _It's just a hat,_ I thought, hoping that he would somehow hear me.  _It's not worth losing your head for._  I could handle this lug on my own, anyway.

            "That was most impolite."  Great.  So he wasn't going to do the smart thing and back off while he still could.  "If you leave us be, I will forget this ever happened.  If not…"  What could he do, though?  He couldn't possibly draw his sword in time to defend himself.

            The big guy laughed.  "You'll do _what?_  Hah!"  It was a rhetorical question, but Jack answered it anyway.

            His hand moved with astonishing speed, jabbing the big man just underneath the ribs.  My assailant made a _whoomph_ sound and released his grip on me.  By the time I had landed on the ground, Jack had followed up with another blow to the man's chin.  His head snapped back – he staggered backward a few steps, knocking over a table, before he regained his balance and rushed at Jack with a loud roar.

            I wasn't going to let my rescuer face this threat by himself.  I picked up a stool and, as the big guy ran by me, I bought it down on his head.  The stool came apart at the impact.

            He was stunned for a moment, but not put out of commission as I had hoped.  I managed to dodge the punch he threw at me, and he ended up hitting a bystander instead.  One of his friends retaliated in kind.  That's when all heck broke loose.

            Our little argument rapidly became a full-scale brawl.  Some people banded together and took sides; others just hit anyone who got too close.  I picked up a leg from the broken stool to use as a weapon – it would minimize my chance of causing someone a fatal injury, which could get me in even more trouble – and joined with Jack, who was the only one in the room that I could trust.

            That was how we ended up back to back, fending off the rest of the world in general.  I managed to knock someone out with the stool leg.  "Maybe we should try and make it to the door?"  I shouted.

            "Too far," he replied, using a pewter mug to hit a four-armed creature with purple skin that had tried to attack him.

            "It's our only option," I pointed out, using the stool leg to smack a chainmail-shirted goon upside the head.

            "There's the window," he countered.  "On three?"

            "One moment!" I told him.  I had to get my quiver first – it was on the floor now, but within arm's reach.  I picked it up and slung it over my shoulder, then used my improvised club to smack a bearded barbarian who came a little too close for comfort.  "Okay!  On three!"

            "One…two…_three!_"  He ran for the window.  I turned around and followed after him.  He scooped up a pewter tray from the floor without breaking his stride and used it to hit a fighter who was in his path – with a _clang_, the unfortunate fellow went down like an axed tree.  Then, using the tray like a shield, Jack leaped at the window.

            The glass panes and wood frames shattered outward and the rain came in.  One of the flying shards cut my cheek, but I hardly felt it.  I dove out the window after Jack.

            I rolled as I hit the ground outside, feeling more shards of glass dig into my flesh as I did so.  There was a flash of lighting, during which I saw Jack reaching out a hand to me.  I flailed in the darkness for a few moments before our hands met; then he grabbed my wrist, pulled me up and started running.  And none too soon, either – I could hear shouting from behind us, and the splashing of feet running in pursuit.

            I wondered if Jack knew where we were going – I kept tripping and stumbling, but he seemed remarkably sure-footed.  A flash of lightning illuminated our surroundings, and I saw that we were near the trees that surrounded the town whose only inn we had just left in such disarray.  Moments later, my free hand brushed bark – the rain did not seem to be coming down as heavily, and the space around me no longer felt open as it had before.

            He slowed down a little, and we pushed through the trees for a few more minutes before he decided to stop.  "This is far enough.  We should be safe," he shouted over the noise of the storm.  "I am sorry for causing you all this trouble."

            I could only stare at him (or at where I thought he was standing) in disbelief for a few moments.  Then I broke out laughing.  "You have nothing to apologize for!"  I was laughing so hard that I lost my balance and fell down, so I was sitting in the mud.  I didn't care.  "I owe you one!"

            There was another flash of lighting, and in the bright light I could see him smile.


	4. Chapter 3: Mapping our Losses

            By the time the sun had risen, we were no longer in such good spirits.  We were wet, tired and very hungry.  I imagine that we made a very sorry sight indeed.  My clothes were somewhat torn and very muddy; my hair was like wet straw.  Jack's robe was, oddly enough, not torn at all, though it was spattered with mud.  His hair, which had once been twisted into a bun on the crown of his head, was now an absolute mess.  He must have felt as awful as I did, but he didn't complain at all.  I didn't either - I may have been cold, wet, hungry and miserable, but at least I was alive and in one piece.  And I wasn't alone.

            "Do you know this area at all?" he asked me.  "We need to find some shelter, and some food."

            "I know the roads and the towns, but not the woods.  I'm completely lost.  Sorry," I apologized.  "But food I can manage, with a little luck.  One sec."  I removed my quiver, then untied the oilskin that kept its contents protected from the elements – it had kept everything inside dry, despite the deluge and harried escape of the night before.  The bow, secure in its case, was also in good condition.  I took an arrow from the quiver and the bow from its case, put the quiver on my back again and fitted the arrow to the bowstring.  "If we find a rabbit or something, I'll get it."  Jack nodded, and we journeyed on, taking care to move quietly so as to increase our chances of coming across some game.

            We didn't find any food, but we did find a big hill with a stream running by it.  The hill was mostly granite with a thin covering of soil, and there was a shallow cave in it.  We weren't the first people to use it as a campsite, for there was a scorched circle and a pile of ashes in it.  Jack and I gathered some fallen branches and twigs to make a fire.  The wood was wet, but it was all we had.  Fortunately, Jack managed to find some birch bark for tinder.  I was able to get a blaze started with my flint stones.  I took off my cloak and spread it out on the floor near the fire to dry – it was a warm day anyway, so I didn't need it.

            "I'm going to see if I can find us some breakfast," I informed my traveling companion.  "Do you think you could find some fruit or something?"

            He nodded.  "Perhaps I can catch some fish from the stream as well.  Should we meet back here in an hour?"

            "Fine with me."  I left the cave and ventured into the trees to see what I could find.

            By the time the hour had passed, I'd managed to bag a hare, and Jack had gotten some roots and berries.  He'd also managed to catch and clean a couple of fish.  One of them was cooking on some hot stones by the fire – he had cut the other one into pieces and was eating it raw, with the little pair of sticks he had used to eat his dinner the night before.

            "You don't cook your fish first?" I asked incredulously.

            "I am cooking yours.  But where I come from this is considered a delicacy."  That was the only explanation he gave.  Where the heck _did_ he come from?  I didn't know of any place where people ate raw fish.

            I was curious about that, but at the time my hunger took priority over my curiosity.  I skinned, cleaned and cut up the hare, then picked up a suitable stick from the little woodpile and started roasting the meat.  My fish was done by then, so I ate it and some of the berries while I waited.

            It was then that I realized something else – I didn't see anything here that looked like a fishing pole, nor had I seen one outside.  If he'd caught those fish less than an hour ago there should have been one.  "How'd you catch those fish?" I asked.

            He looked up at me and held up his left hand with a smile.

            It took me a moment to understand.  "You're kidding.  With your bare hands?"

            "No, I am not.  It is a skill that takes a long time and much practice to learn."  To say that I was impressed would have been an understatement.

            "Where did you learn that?"  Perhaps the answer would give me some idea of where he came from.

            "Africa."

            I frowned.  "Never heard of it."  He just shrugged, as if he had expected me to say that.  I would have to figure out some other way of finding out about him.

            That task kept my mind occupied for the rest of the day.  The weather was good, so we each took a turn to bathe and wash our clothes in the stream.   While my traveling companion was out, I got a needle and thread out of the little kit on my belt and mended the tears in my clothes.  They were still going to be damp for a while, but at least they would be _clean damp, and the fire would dry them off in a few hours.  My boots would take until morning to dry, but since we weren't going to go anywhere for a while it wouldn't be much of a problem._

            _Go anywhere…Suddenly an idea popped into my head.  I took a small stick from the woodpile and whittled one end with one of my daggers.  Then I stuck the pointy end into the fire until it became charcoal.  I blew out the flame and began to draw on the cave floor._

            By the time Jack had returned to the cave, it was nearing sunset, and I had completed my drawing on the floor.  It was a rough map of the world as I knew it, with the four cardinal points marked for guidance.  Jack looked at it, a little puzzled.

            "This way you can show me where Africa is," I explained.  He nodded and, stepping around the map, came to kneel down beside me.

            "Here."  With a finger he indicated the large continent that I knew as Evvika, south of the subcontinent of Europa.  "Somewhere in this region."  He pinpointed a place near the source of the great Nyel River in the northeastern part of that land.

            "Is that where you come from?" I asked.  He shook his head, refusing to meet my eyes and offering no other answer.

            I could only think of one other option, and it was something I wished to avoid.  But I really wanted to know.

            "All right.  This is where I come from."  I pointed to a region on the eastern end of the Metrranian sea, the body of water between Europa and Evvika.  "What do you call this land?"

            He looked at it.  "The country of Turkey."

            "I lived in a village on the coast," I told him, tapping the area with the stick.  "I grew up there.  My father was a hunter.  Most of the other people were farmers or fishermen."  I paused, trying to think of the best way to phrase it.  "I would probably be living there now, except…one year the harvest wasn't good, and we couldn't afford to pay the annual tribute to Aku.  Now there's no village anymore."  It had been a long time ago, but the memory still hurt – which was why I had not wanted to talk about it.  It would be worth it, though, if I could get Jack to talk about his own homeland.

            I turned to face him, and was surprised to see the way he was looking at me.  There was something in his eyes that wrenched my heart, an emotion that no words can describe.  Whenever I think about it, even now, I feel deeply unsettled.  But it was there for only a moment before he caught himself and hid it away.

He held out his hand.  "I will show you where I came from."  I passed him the drawing stick.

            He began working on the map, expanding upon it, drawing in places I didn't know.  He finished by drawing an archipelago of islands (three big ones with a scattering of small ones) off the eastern coast of Osia.  He pointed to it with the end of the stick.  "This land is called Nippon, or Japan."  Pause.  "Well…it _was_."  He erased it with his hand. There was a rumble of thunder outside, and the sound of rain falling.

            I felt like a complete jerk.  He had avoided talking about his home for the same reason that I did not like to mention mine.  "I'm sorry," I apologized.

            "It was not your fault."  His eyes were on the sooty smudge that had once been the archipelago.  He wasn't looking _at_ it so much as _through_ it.

            "No, I mean for making you talk about it.  I didn't know."  I wanted to slap myself.

            There was one of those long, awkward silences, broken by a loud _snap_ and a flare of light as the logs settled in the fire.  Jack turned and threw the drawing stick into the flames.

            We ate the rest of our food in silence before settling down for the night.  I wrapped myself in my cloak and managed to find a comfortable position on the stone floor.  Jack sat against the wall on the opposite side of the fire, with his legs drawn up to his chin and his arms resting on his knees.  He kept his sword in the crook of his elbow and rested his head on his forearms.  It looked like an uncomfortable way to spend the night, but after a few minutes the sound of his breathing signaled that he was asleep.

            I, however, did not fall asleep for a long time.


	5. Chapter 4: In and Out of Favor

            When I opened my eyes the next morning, the first thing I saw was a pile of embers and ash that had once been a campfire.  There was sunlight coming in from somewhere, and the sound of singing birds.  My limbs felt a little sore…

            Then my brain got itself into gear as the last mists of sleep were burned away.  I remembered where I was and how I had gotten there.  I also realized, with a start, that I was alone.

            I sat up and looked around the cave.  There was no sign of Jack.  _He must have left,_ I thought to myself.  _I made him upset by  making him talk about…_I tried to calm myself.  I had been alone in the wilderness before many times in the past.  It wasn't anything to panic over.

            But that wasn't the problem.  The problem was that I felt ashamed of myself.  He'd helped me out of a dangerous situation; I'd repaid him by making him remember something painful.  And by doing so, I'd lost an acquaintance who might have become a friend.  I would probably never see him again.  It made me feel sick inside.

            Well, the only thing I could do now was move on.  I rubbed the sleep from my eyes, combed my hair with my fingers and collected my things.  I put on my boots, belt, cloak and quiver; I stamped out the last embers of the fire and went to the entrance of the cave.  I planned to wash my face and refill my waterskin in the stream – then I would find the road and after that, well, I'd just take things as they came.  That's the story of my life, taking things as they come.

            My plans changed the moment I exited the cave, for I saw that Jack hadn't left me after all.  He was in a small clearing across the stream, sword in hand.  It looked like he was practicing sword forms, but they were much different from any moves I had ever seen.  I considered calling out to him, since he hadn't noticed me, but I decided against it.  Instead, I watched.

            The blade of his sword was an impossibly thin ribbon of what looked like high-quality steel.  From its shape – and the kind of moves Jack was practicing – I could tell that it was designed for slashing.  The metal flashed and winked in the sun as Jack raised the sword over his head, then snapped it down as if he were slicing an invisible foe.  It was such an elegant thing that I could hardly believe it was a weapon.

            The sword's owner moved back and forth across the field with fluid grace; it didn't look like combat practice at all, really, but  more like a dance.  In my mind, I could not associate this – not the sword, not the movements – with any kind of fighting.  I should have known better.  After all, I knew that Jack could fight, even if I hadn't seen him use that sword before.

            He turned so that he had his back to me, and raised the sword in a blocking motion.  I think he saw me reflected in the blade then, because he stopped and turned around toward me, looking a little surprised.  "Good morning, Ketiya," he called.  "I did not notice you there."  He slid the blade into its scabbard and bowed in my direction.  I smiled – he wasn't that upset with me after all.  I returned his bow.

            "Good morning to you too."  I walked forward, toward the stream.  "You keep surprising me.  Anyone else would have woken me up."  I wasn't going to talk about the conversation – or whatever it was – of the night before.  If he wasn't going to bring it up, then neither was I.  It was better that way.

            "I apologize.  I thought it would be better to let you rest."

            "I didn't mean _intentionally_ wake me," I clarified.  I take great pride in my perceptive abilities.  Even the stealthiest of footpads have a hard time catching me unawares.  A large number of individuals who once thought otherwise have been unpleasantly (read: fatally) surprised.  "Thanks for letting me sleep, though.  I appreciate it.  I've put out the fire already, so once I've filled my waterskin we can find our way back to what passes for civilization around here – if that's okay with you, I mean."

            Jack just nodded.  I knelt at the stream, washed my face and filled my waterskin.  When that was done I hopped to the opposite bank where my friend stood, and we set off into the trees.

~***~

            We found some berries to eat an hour later, and the road at about noon.  It was a wide, dusty track with a ditch running along each side.  A road of this sort meant that a town was not far away – maybe we would have decent food and a real bed to sleep in tonight.

            But I take to heart that saying about chickens, eggs and counting.  The roads in these parts were dangerous.  I got out my bow and fitted an arrow, ready to shoot if something unpleasant showed up.  "Bandits around here," I explained to Jack.  "Just be prepared for nasty surprises."

            "I always am," he told me.  I thought at first that this was some sign of a sense of humor, but I on further reflection I realized that it probably wasn't.

            I tried to start up a conversation as we journeyed along the road, but after a while I gave it up.  My companion did not seem inclined to talk.  This made me uneasy – perhaps he was still upset about last night.  I had not wanted to talk about it, but…maybe it was necessary.

            "Look.  If you're still unhappy with me about…"

            "Wait," he interrupted in a near-whisper.  "Did you hear that?"

            I listened carefully.  I could hear the rustling of leaves, but there was no wind to move them.  It might have been an animal, but still…

            It wasn't.  "_Your money or your life!_"  Six nasty-looking individuals in studded leather armor jumped out of the trees.  They were all armed with sharp objects, but I saw no ranged weapons.  Three of them were blocking the road in front of us, and three behind.

            They were in for a nasty surprise.  With a smile, I raised my bow and prepared to fire.  Behind me, I heard Jack draw his sword.

~***~

            The fight was over in three minutes.  Two of the bandits had bolted; the other four were dead.  I had shot two, Jack had decapitated one, and the last…I'm not sure what Jack did to him.  The brigand's corpse was caught in the branches of a tree.

            Jack cleaned his sword on the clothes of the decapitated bandit, while I tried to retrieve my arrows from the ones I had killed.  It was somewhat difficult – with a good bow behind them, arrows with red crystal heads can pierce almost anything:  But once they've done the actual piercing it can be almost impossible to dislodge them.  I managed to get one out, while Jack got the other one.

            "You are an exceptional archer," he complimented as he handed me the arrow.  I was surprised and more than a little flattered.

            "Thanks.  And you're a better-than-exceptional swordsman.  I mean it."  It was the best praise I could come up with, but it was also a major understatement.

            He seemed satisfied, though.  "Thank you."

            I went to one of the corpses and knelt by it, intending to search it for money or valuables.  I realized that Jack was giving me a funny look.  I turned around.  "What is it?"

            "You are looting them?"  Something was bothering him.

            "Of course.  We'll split it fifty-fifty, naturally."  I found a money purse on the corpse and opened it.  There were silver coins inside – not bad pickings at all.

            He put his hand on my forearm, gripping it so hard that it almost hurt.  "No.  It is not right."

            I glared at him, but to no effect.  "They tried to rob us.  Considering the circumstances, I think it's justified.  Anyway, dead people don't need money."

            "That does not make it right," he argued.  "I will not take anything from a corpse.  Neither should you."  I wondered what I ought to do.  I really wanted the money, but I didn't want Jack to think badly of me.  I was surprised at myself – it had been many years since another person's opinion of me had seemed so important.  If it came down to a choice between them…well, perhaps I could make a compromise.

            "I don't know about you, but I never know what's coming next," I explained to him.  "I might not be able to get any other money for a while.  I don't steal things or kill people for their money, because I _do_ have some sense of ethics, but I take what I can get."  His grip on my arm loosened a little.  "Look.  I'll get the money from the two I killed.  You can take or leave the others.  But I suggest that you do the smart thing, because you'll probably regret it later if you don't."

            He considered this for a few moments, then took his hand off my arm and stood up  He said nothing at all, but I didn't like the look he was giving me.  He didn't object when I looted the corpses of the two bandits I had shot, but he did not take the money from the other two bodies either.

            I didn't press him about it.  We walked on in silence, leaving the scene of the battle behind us.

            I had told him that he would regret it if he didn't take his share of the money from the bandits.  But it was I who suffered regrets – yet again, it seemed, I had broken the camaraderie that had been developing between us.


	6. Chapter 5: Hats, Stars and Surprises

            As we traveled on, the trees and brush grew thinner and thinner, until at some point the forest ended and the plains began.  Now the road ran through a great swath of long grass, and I could see mountains on the far horizon.  In the nearer distance I could see a patchwork of cultivated fields, as well as a walled town where several roads converged.  When I saw that, I knew where we were; I had been here before, but traveling in the opposite direction.

            "There's a town over there."  I pointed in the direction of the fields.  "It's called Cavatera.  I was there just a few weeks ago.  We should be able to reach it by sunset."

            Shading his eyes with his hand, Jack looked over the plains.  "That is good."  He seemed to be thinking.  "Is it like the last town we were in?"

            "Fortunately, no.  It's a big trading center, so there are some good inns there.  And the townsfolk are hospitable, but they make sure that everyone follows the rules.  So we're unlikely to encounter…unpleasant surprises."  There was also a good chance that we could find some employment – there were always merchants hiring caravan guards there.  We would see about that when we arrived.

            We stopped for a few minutes to rest and drink some water – it was a hot day.  Jack used his sword to cut some stalks of long grass.  While most swords were less than ideal for such a task, this one felled the plants like a well-sharpened scythe.  I remembered how he had used that sword, mere hours ago, to cut off someone's head, and with hardly more effort than he was now using to cut the grass.  I must confess that it made me more than a little uneasy.

            As I watched, Jack tied the ends of some of the stalks together, making a sort of wheel, then began to weave some of the other stalks into it, from the hub outwards.  It was immediately obvious to me that he had done this many times, but I could not tell exactly what he was making.

            "What's that going to be, when it's done?" I asked.

            "A hat," he replied.  I remembered the hat he had lost in the inn the other night.

            "How many of these things have you made?"

            He paused for a moment, thinking.  "I have lost count."  He looked at me quizzically.  "Would you like one?"  Somehow I gathered that it had taken a lot of courage for him to ask that question.

            I hadn't expected _that_.  It was a pleasant surprise, a rare thing indeed.  For that very reason, I think, I was unsure of how to respond..  "Yes, I…thank you.  Actually, could you teach me how to make one?"

            Making one of those things wasn't as easy as he had made it look.  It took me a long time and many a false start, but he was very patient and quietly encouraging.  The finished product did not look as neat as his, but it would do.

            "It is much better than my first hat," he assured me.  On hearing that, I felt a little awkward.  While I was curious about the circumstances of that first hat, the when and where and how, I could not bring myself to ask for the details.  Not after the near-disaster that had resulted from my curiosity the previous night.  I had made enough mistakes already.

            We had paused for longer than we had intended to.  I had also underestimated the distance to Cavatera, so we were still out on the road after night had fallen.  Fortunately it was a clear night, and the moon was nearly full.  The grass fields, which had been green and gold by day, were silver in the light of the moon.  The stars were out in force, too.  It seemed that the weather was now making up for its misbehavior of the past few days.

            "Ketiya," Jack addressed me.  We had exchanged few words over the past several hours, and I had always been the one to start those exchanges.  "I was wondering about…"  He paused.  "Never mind.  It is a foolish question."

            "Just ask me.  I don't mind," I encouraged him.  The fact that he was asking me anything was a good sign.

            "Well…someone told me that there were other worlds beyond the stars.  I have seen people from these other worlds, but I still have a difficult time believing in them.  Do you know anything about these other worlds?"  He had never spoken so many words together before in the time I had known him.  Admittedly, it hadn't been a _long_ time, but it was no less significant for that.

            "I've never been off this planet myself," I admitted.  "All I know of other worlds is hearsay, and not much of that."

            He seemed a little disappointed.  I thought that was the end of the exchange, and that made me a little sad.  But it wasn't.  "Are the stars those other worlds?"

            I wondered about his understanding of basic astronomy.  I was lucky in that I had gotten a decent education, but I knew there were plenty of people who still thought that the world was flat, or that the sun rotated around the planet and not the other way around.  I wondered if he was one of those people.  "Sort of.  But before I can explain that, I need to know – and I don't mean to offend you – do you believe that the Earth rotates around the sun?"

            "Yes.  I was taught that the sun is the center of the universe, and that the world and most other celestial bodies rotate around it.  Except for the moon, which orbits the Earth."  That wasn't accurate, but it was better than I had expected.

            "Well, the Earth _does_ rotate around the sun, but the sun isn't the center of the universe.  It's a star, just really close to us.  In relative terms, that is…"  I explained to him what I had been taught in school, about gravity, solar systems, meteors, and similar phenomena.  I worried that he wouldn't understand any of it, but by the time we reached the gates of the walled town of Cavatera he seemed to be fine with the whole business.  Much to my delight, he even found it interesting.

            "It seems that we have both learned something today," he remarked, "But I fear that what I have taught you is less than adequate compensation for what I have learned."

            I shook my head.  "No, it was a fair trade."  I winked at him and got a smile in return.


	7. Chapter 6: I Should Have Told You

            The streets of Cavatera were lit by electric lamps on tall posts.  There was not much in the way of advanced technology here, but only because the locals preferred it that way. I certainly didn't mind – I tend to avoid the really big cities, with their skyscrapers and flashing lights and flying cars.  I don't understand how anyone can live in those places.  The people of Cavatera, however, managed to use technology in moderation, collecting sunlight with great shining trays called solar panels to power their machines.  I don't know exactly how they manage this, but then again all electric machines are strange to me.  That's what I told Jack when he asked me how the lamps worked.

            We came to the Inn of the Covered Cart, where I had stayed the last time I had passed through the town.  I arranged for two rooms and some dinner for each of us before we went into the common room, which was a lot cleaner, quieter and more pleasant than the one we had met in.

            It was also unusually empty, even for this time of night.  Last time I had been here the place had been fairly crowded, but there were only a few other patrons in the room besides ourselves.  Jack and I took a table in the corner.  I noticed that he was peering uneasily around the room.

            "What is it?" I asked.

            "The inn is run by giant talking cats!" he exclaimed in a near-whisper.

            "You've never seen Fyleans before?  Most of the inhabitants of this town are Fylean immigrants.  They're perfectly decent people.  Nicer than most humans I've met, really."  I didn't understand the reason for his distress.  "Don't call them 'cats' to their faces, though.  They don't like it."

            "I am sorry, I just…I expected that it would be a human town."  He shook his head, as if trying to clear it.

            I felt like laughing, but that would have been nasty.  "Yeah, most extra-terrestrials either stick around the spaceports or live in the middle of nowhere.  The Fyleans are an exception.  But they're not the only ones."  I sighed.  "I should have told you first, I guess."

            He looked up at me with a puzzled expression.  "What does 'extra-terrestrial' mean?"  I was surprised by the question.  He had obviously done a lot of traveling – how could he not know what it meant?

            "Terra is another name for Earth.  'Extra-terrestrial' means 'not from Earth.'  It's a lot politer than 'aliens.'"  Jack seemed to be calming down now.

            "I should have expected it," he grumbled.  "There are talking dogs, after all."

                        That made no sense whatsoever.  "What's so weird about talking dogs?" I asked.  "They all talk.  But the Fyleans are extra-terrestrials and the dogs aren't."  I wondered if I were really having this conversation or just dreaming it.  It was completely ridiculous.

            Jack looked utterly confused for a moment, then he put his hand over his face in frustration.  "Never mind," he sighed.

            It was odd – every time I learned something about him, he only became more of a puzzle to me.  But it wasn't frustrating at all.  It was…

            My train of thought was interrupted as a maid walked up to our table, graceful as a dancer, holding a tray in her hands.  Her simple dress of brown, white and black complimented her short calico fur.  The tip of her tail peeked out from under the hem.

            "One venison and salad, one vegetable stew and two mugs of spiced ciderr."  She placed the orders on the table before us, as well as a loaf of freshly baked bread on a cutting board.  Jack thanked her politely – I guess manners were manners to him, species differences or no - and so did I.  Usually I don't bother when I'm on my own, but he seemed to be rubbing off on me a bit.  The waitress dipped a polite curtsey and flitted off.

            I started slicing the loaf of bread.  Jack took the spoon from his vegetable stew, wiped it off with his napkin and put it on the table.  Then he took the pair of little wooden chopsticks from a pocket in the sleeve of his robe and used those to pick out individual vegetables from the broth.  I decided that it would not be prudent to comment upon this, and started eating my own dinner.  The knife and fork felt sort of awkward in my hands.

             The strangeness of it all – the recent conversation and everything else – was so overwhelming that I could barely taste the food I was eating.  Jack seemed to be affected by it as well, for he was even more subdued than usual.  I felt the same uncomfortable feeling that I had the previous evening, after the incident with the map.  I remembered how he had not-looked at the remains of the islands he had drawn.  He was not-looking at the table in that same way now.  It almost drove me crazy.

             After dinner (which seemed to take forever), we went up to the corridor where our rooms were located, on opposite sides of the hall.  "If you get up before I do tomorrow morning, please wake me," I told him.  "We can go looking around the market after breakfast – there's always a caravan leader in need of guards, so…" I faltered.  Why was I assuming that he would go by _my_ plans?

            But, to my immense relief, he nodded in agreement.  I bid him good night and took my room key out of my trouser pocket.  I was about to open the door when he spoke.

            "Ketiya, I…there is something I wish to tell you."  I turned around, my insides stretched tight as a bowstring.  From the tone of his voice, I knew that whatever it was couldn't be good.  "I did not think it was a good idea before, but…I feel that I cannot avoid it now.  If you choose to travel with me, you may be putting yourself in danger…"  He looked from one end of the corridor to the other, then opened the door to his room.  He stepped through the door and turned to look at me.  Puzzled, and more than a little anxious, I followed him into the room.

            He was obviously wary of eavesdroppers – he opened the wardrobe and the window, to look into the former and out the latter, then shut the window again and checked under the bed.  I took a last look into the corridor to make sure that nobody was there.  All clear.  I closed the door behind me and locked it.

            "You may want to sit down," Jack suggested, gesturing to the room's only chair.  I obliged, keeping my eyes fixed on him the whole time.  He stood in front of the chair, clasped his hands before him and lowered his eyes.  Trying to find the best way to say it.  At last, he looked up at me again.  "I should have told you this before…"


	8. Chapter 7: Broken Dolls

            These days, everybody knows Jack's story; it's old news.  I'm not going to repeat it.  But when I met him, he'd been in our time period for only a little more than a week, so he wasn't famous (or infamous) yet.  And as you can imagine, when he told me about where and _when_ he came from…

            After he finished speaking, I realized that my jaw was hanging open in shock.  I shut it.

            "You see why I was reluctant to tell you," Jack commented.  He was looking at me with a sympathetic expression.

            I put my head in my hands.  I wasn't sure what to think of it.  It was unbelievable, but…"This explains a lot of things," was all I could say, because that pretty much summed it up.  Neither of us spoke for a few seconds.

            Jack sighed.  "I did not keep this from you because I distrusted you.  I am honored to have you as a friend -" I jerked my head up in surprise at the word 'friend',  "- and comrade, and I feared that…you would no longer wish to travel with me if I told you.  But I could not in good conscience put you in danger without your knowledge.  I am sorry that I kept it from you."

            I didn't know what to think.  On the one hand, being Jack's friend was, by his own admission, not very good for my well-being.  If one of Aku's minions got me, I'd be _lucky_ if I ended up dead.  On the other hand, though…never in my adult life had I heard anyone say that they were honored to consider me a friend.  That meant a lot to me.

            I shook my head.  "I don't know what to think.  I can't decide now."  I stood up from the chair.  "Tomorrow, maybe, but..."

Jack nodded solemnly.  "I will understand if you think it best for us to part ways."  I could hear the hurt in his voice, though he was trying to hide it.

I don't remember telling him goodnight, or leaving the room, or getting ready for bed.  But I remember lying awake in the dark as my common sense and my fears fought a raging battle with my sense of friendship and loyalty.

~***~

            "I'm sorry, Jack," I told him the next morning, as we sat across from each other at the same corner table we had occupied the night before.  Saying the words was one of the most difficult things I have ever done, but it was, I thought, the best decision.  "I don't have the courage for it."  I looked at the cup of tea in my hands, because I couldn't meet his eyes.

            "I do not blame you.  It is a difficult path to take."  He was disappointed, and I felt a stab of guilt to hear it in his voice.  It almost made me change my mind, but I remembered the rumors I had heard about Aku's Pit of Hate, and felt a chill run down my spine.  Nothing could be worth enduring _that_.  It was worse than all the guilt and remorse in the world.  There was just no way that I could risk it.

            There was, however, one small thing I could do to help Jack before I left.  I had decided on it before heading downstairs that morning.  "Listen, I still owe you for helping me out when I was in trouble.  And I always make good on my debts, one way or another."  I reached into my quiver, which was sitting against the leg of my chair, and took out the black scabbard that contained one of my daggers.  I handed it to him, hilt first.  He regarded it carefully for a moment, then looked at me uncertainly. "Go on, take it.  It's the least I can do to repay you."  He reached out and carefully took the proffered dagger from my hand.  Then he drew it partway out of its scabbard to inspect it, and his eyes widened in disbelief.  The blade of that dagger was made of the same red mineral as the heads of my arrows.  It was worth a small fortune, and he obviously knew it.

            Jack slid the dagger home again, looked up at me and shook his head.  "Ketiya, I appreciate your gift but…I cannot accept this.  It is too much."  He held the dagger out to me, but I waved it away.

            "Don't do that.  I can't go with you, but my gift can, and that's something at least."  _Please take it,_ I thought desperately, _and it will salve my conscience a little bit._

            Jack smiled at me.  "Thank you, Ketiya.  For everything."  He bowed his head respectfully.

            I returned the bow, but could not find the words to return his thanks.

~***~

            I had said my goodbyes to Jack a quarter of an hour ago.  I had walked out the door of the inn and back to business as usual.  The day was warm, the sky was clear, and it seemed like the whole world was in a good mood.  Except, of course, for me.  I felt like the whole world was mocking me with its happiness.  It should have been raining, or at least overcast, but the universe has no sense of poetic justice.  Or any other kind of justice, for that matter.  I trudged into the town square, hoping to find a caravan headed for the coast.

            The town of Cavatera has a well-organized street plan – there are four gates in its walls, one at each of the cardinal points.  From each gate a broad lane leads into the center of the town, where they meet in a great square.  Since it's on flat ground and the town isn't that big, there's a clear line of sight from any one gate to its opposite, if you're tall enough to see over everyone's heads.  In theory, you could see all four gates from the center of the town square.  In actuality, however, the streets and square are usually too crowded for that.

            But because there was a clear path between the west gate and the square, the panic touched off by the sight of the robots cresting the western ridge a few miles away was felt in the town's center mere seconds after the event itself.  I heard shouts – "Mantis bots!  They're coming this way!  Get out of the lane!" - and the desperate mewling of the frightened Fylean townsfolk.   I had the misfortune to be near the western edge of the square at the time, so I was nearly trampled by the crowds of terrified people trying to get out of the streets and into a safe building.  Not all of them managed it, and many people found themselves on the wrong side of a locked door.  I was one of them.

            I ceased my futile banging on the door of a shop and looked to the west, in time to see four Type-3 mantis robots enter the city.  They are among the most feared of Aku's metal soldiers – twenty feet tall, constructed of black metal, their eyes great red glowing orbs.  Their forelegs, grim parodies of those on the preying mantis that they resemble, are great scything blades on jointed arms.  The sextuple legs of these four were retracted into their abdomens in favor of the great tank treads that they use to cover long distances at speed.  They were speeding up the lane into the square, crushing any and all lampposts, market stalls and other objects in their way.

            I looked around for some still-open door or alley to hide in, but didn't find one.  Instead I saw a small ginger-furred Fylean kitten clutching a little doll, staring wide-eyed at the approaching mantises.  She was standing in the path of an oncoming bot, but was too terrified even to run.  She was going to be crushed under those treads.

            The child was thirty yards away from me, and the mantises were closing in.  I ran in her direction, shouting at her to move, but she didn't seem to hear me – she just gaped at her impending doom.  The thunder of tank treads and the sound of engines thundered in my ears as I got closer to her.  _Turn back,_ part of me screamed, _you can't make it, you'll both die._  Somehow I ran faster than I thought I could and closed the gap.

            I was so close to the mantis bot that I could see the scratches on its armor.  The mechanical thunder of the thing drowned out all other sound and thought.  But I wasn't thinking now, just doing – I jumped, and caught the child in a flying tackle.  Her shriek was barely audible over the noise.  I rolled, clutching her to me desperately, and felt more than heard a small _crunch_ as the treads missed me by inches.  I didn't open my eyes or make any other movement until the mantis had passed by.  Then I sat up and watched as the others passed by, into the square.  I saw a dark figure in a long green-and-black coat standing on the back of one of them.

            "Irrine!" I heard someone shout.  I stood up and let go of the child as a gray Fylean tomcat ran up to me.

            "Dada!" the child cried as dashed to him.  He picked her up, mouthing a silent _thank you_ to me before attending to the task of consoling her.  

            "**_Good morning, citizens_**_,_" came a nastily cheery voice from the square.  I turned to look.  There was now a mantis bot in each corner of the town center.  In the middle was the man in the coat that I had seen earlier, using a megaphone to make himself heard.  People were watching him, from where they cowered against the walls or from behind doors and windows.  "**_I am Captain Artophon, of the thirty-first regiment of the army of our Lord Aku, may he be praised for all time._**"  That explained the mantis bots, and the coat he was wearing.  "**_I'm in this town because I am looking for a man who has committed horrible crimes against the Great Aku.  I know he's here.  He is known as Jack the Samurai._**"  At that, I felt my blood freeze in my veins.

"**_Now, you're very lucky that I'm the one you're dealing with here, because I could  just raze your town to the ground as punishment for the harboring of a criminal.  But I'm a nice guy, so I'm not going to do that.  However, if this Jack is not at the western gate of the city before sundown today…well, I've got twenty of these mantises, and you know what I'll order them to do.  I don't suppose I need to tell you that nobody is going in our out of the gates today.  Remember, by sundown, or this town is toast.  That is all._**"

I moved to the side of the lane as the mantises came to life, gathering around their master.  He jumped onto the back of one of them, and they went back the way they had come, along the western lane and out the gate.  I could make out other dark shapes beyond it, which were undoubtedly the other mantises at his command.

There was only one thing on my mind – I had to get out of here, before Captain Artophon's bots managed to get in position around the gates and keep anyone from getting out.  If I hurried, I would be able to make it out one of the gates, hide in the tall grasses until nightfall, then slip away.  Remembering my spineless cowardice makes me ashamed now, but I was a different person back then.  I ran for the south gate as fast as my legs could carry me.

I nearly stepped on the remains of a child's doll, but skidded to a halt before I did so.  It was the little doll the Fylean child had been carrying – she must have dropped it when I grabbed her.  It had been broken under the treads of the mantis that had nearly crushed us both.  The thing's little cat face was smiling up at the sky.  Most people wouldn't have given it a second thought, but to me the little toy was a nightmare come true…

~***~

_            The fires haven't died down yet, but she had to go back.  All of the others who got away are still hiding, but she has to find her family._

_            The girl walks past the storehouse where the fish-oil was kept, now a charred ruin spewing stinking black smoke into the sky.  The house where her best friend once lived, now little more than burned timbers and ashes.  She sees herself reflected a hundred times in the jagged panes of what was once a shop window.  There are people – dead people – lying here and there, and she tries not to look at them, tries not to be sick.  She calls for her father, her brother, her little sisters, but gets no answer.  The answer will not come, and part of her knows this already, but she stubbornly refuses to acknowledge it._

_            In the center of the town the air is so thick with smoke that she finds it hard to breathe.  Her eyes water, and she trips on something because she can't see.  Something crunches under her hand as she falls.  She lifts her hand to rub her eyes, then looks at the thing she fell on._

_            It's her sister Mari's favorite doll, its body crushed and its left arm snapped off.  Its dirty face is grinning vacantly  upward, into the smoke.  The girl picks up the doll and stares at it.  Then it hits her.  They're gone forever and she won't see them anymore.  A silent sob racks her body, and a second one escapes her lips._

_            She clutches the doll to her chest and begins to weep._

~***~

            I was holding the doll so hard that my hand hurt.  Wiping the tears from my eyes, I stood up and glared at the western gate, beyond which the mantises were gathered, their Captain waiting among them.  In my mind's eye I saw the buildings burning, the smoke rising into the clear sky, the corpses in the streets.  I could hear the screams and the sobbing of a little girl.

            Now I understood what it was that gave Jack the courage to fight.

            Dropping the doll, I changed course and headed for the inn, hoping to find him again.  I didn't have a plan, but I had a purpose.  That was something.


	9. Chapter 8: The Stand

            Breathing hard with exertion from the run, I barreled through the door and straight into the person who had been about to walk out through it.  I cursed as we both hit the floor and instantly found myself with cause to regret it.

            "Really sorry, Jack," I mumbled as we sorted ourselves out and got to our respective feet.  The better part of my blood supply was involved in signaling my embarrassment.  Or at least that's what it felt like.  I was glad that I'd caught him before he left but not about the manner in which I had done it.  Again, the universe does not have a sense of poetic justice, but it _does_ have a twisted sense of humor.

            "Ketiya, what is happening out there?" he asked.  The inn was in the northeast quarter of the city, so he had been too far away from the square to know the cause for everyone's panic.

            "That's what I came to tell you, Jack.  I don't know how, but Aku knows you're here."  Jack's face signaled his horrified comprehension.  When I told him about the mantis bots and Captain Artophon's announcement, his eyes narrowed and his hand went to his sword hilt.

            "Aku's lackey will not have to wait until sundown," Jack growled.  "I will see him dead by then."

            He was about to head out the door.  I grabbed his arm to stop him.  "Hold on.  We need a strategy or something first."

            "'We?'" he repeated, his anger turning to surprise.  Then he shook his head.  "This is not your fight, Ketiya.  We already agreed on that."

            "That we did," I admitted, "But we were both wrong.  _I'm going with you._"

            He just looked at me for a few moments.  Then he smiled, and it was official.  We were in it together.

~***~

            Half an hour later, we were in the guardroom that sat above the western gateway.  We had taken great pains getting there, going by back streets so as not to be seen by Artophon or his metal monsters.  I had a set of binoculars – not high-tech ones, but they served – and was using them to peer out the arrow slits at our enemies.  There were five mantis bots standing in a line on the road, two hundred feet from the gate.  They were no longer using their treads; instead, they were using their legs (which came in sets of six, of course), which they could use to move with surprising agility when they were called upon to do so.  The situation was the same at the other four gates, except that Captain Artophon himself was waiting with this bunch.

            I watched him carefully through my binoculars.  Now that I was able to get a clear view of him, I could see that he wore a fearsome helm of black metal.  His nose and mouth were covered by a black cloth mask, but I could see his eyes, which burned red like those of the mantis bots.  The skin around them was dark crimson, like dried blood, as was the skin of his clawed hands.  So he was probably a demon – Aku used to use demons instead of robots, Jack told me, but these days they were pretty rare.

            "He's got a metal vambrace on his left arm," I told Jack.  "It's got some buttons and stuff on it.  That's what he uses to control the mantises – so he can call them, track them, deactivate them, whatever."  I passed him the binoculars so that he could survey the scene.  After about a minute he lowered them and turned to me.

            "Is he carrying a weapon?" he asked.

            "I don't think so," I answered.  "He's going to have the bots do the work for him, after all."

            Jack frowned at that.  He raised the binocs again and peered through them for another few seconds.  "Do you have any idea as to how we should proceed?"

            I rolled my eyes.  "We don't have much to work with.  The townsfolk have no weapons capable of damaging those bots, so it's your sword and my arrows and that's it."  I shook my head.

            "At least there are only twenty of them," Jack remarked, without a trace of humor or sarcasm in his voice.

            What I had to say to that doesn't bear repeating.

~***~

            No, we didn't come up with a miracle strategy.  What we had could barely be considered a strategy at all.  We ended up crouching on the walkway that ran along the inside of the wall, checking over my bow and arrows.  I was going to provide Jack with covering fire when he went out to face Artophon.

            "You would be safer in the guardhouse," he suggested for the third time.  I had appreciated his concern at first, but it was starting to annoy me.

            "No way.  Arrow slits are good when you're trying to stop an incoming charge and you have archers to man them all, but this sort of thing requires marksmanship.  You can't really pick your targets through arrow slits.  I'll be of more help to you from up here than in there.  The mantises don't have ranged weapons, so I won't have to worry about them."  Jack was still looking at me with a doubtful expression.  "Let me worry about me.  You just try and keep yourself alive, okay?"  It was strange, I thought, but now I was not afraid for myself at all.

            He risked a peek over the wall to look at the mantises.  "Are you…sure you can hit them from here?"

            "Yes," was my reply.  Jack raised an eyebrow at me, probably surprised that I'd only given him a one-word answer.  He nodded at me.

            "Good luck to you.  Please be careful."  He moved to the ladder nearby and started climbing down it – he had no problem with the rungs, even with the sandals he was wearing.

            "Jack?" I addressed him.  He halted in his descent and looked up at me.  "Please make sure to get that Artophon bastard, if I don't manage to shoot him."  I grinned.

            He smiled back at me before nodding and continuing down the ladder.  I fitted an arrow in my bow and waited for Jack to leave out the western gate and issue his challenge to the demon Captain.  I usually feel tense before a battle, but for this one – and it was the only one – I felt calmer and more confident than I did in the best of times.  Don't ask me to explain why – I couldn't possibly tell you.

            I looked over the top of the wall at the robots, then at the road before the gate.  Jack came out from inside the city, his hands tucked into his sleeves, his gaze fixed straight ahead of him.  He walked slowly, with the stately grace of a great king.  I looked at Artophon, who was merely standing there, watching him.

            Jack walked to a point about ten feet from the gate and stopped.  "I heard that you were looking for me."  His voice was casual but icy.

            Artophon drew himself up haughtily.  "Jack, you stand accused of threatening the person of our great Lord Aku, and I have been instructed to bring you before him for judgment.  Surrender now and he _may_ show you mercy," he called out.

            "Do not insult me," Jack replied, in a voice that seemed quiet but was nonetheless perfectly audible.  "I will not surrender."  He drew his sword from its sheath; the blade was a silvery flash in the sunlight, and I was reminded of yesterday morning, when I had seen him practicing sword forms.

            "Very well then," Artophon sneered.  He pressed a button on his vambrace.  Two of the mantis robots came to life and, with surprising speed, leaped into the air at Jack.  I stood up, drawing back my arrow, picked a target and fired.

            My arrow got one of them through the head, and it fell over when it hit the ground – whatever served as its brain was no longer functioning.  The other one landed and slashed with its scythe, but Jack had already jumped and the blade slashed through empty air.  As Jack reached the apex of his jump, he brought his sword around in a slash from right to left, tearing through the mantis' armor plate and the circuitry beneath.  I could see sparks of energy crackling around the slash.  It wasn't enough to take the thing out, but now it was moving in jerks and starts.

            I had already fitted another arrow and pulled back.  I shot at one of the three mantises gathered around Artophon, who was frantically pushing buttons on his vambrace.  There was a nimbus of bright electricity around the bot's head for a moment before its eyes faded.  Jack had landed on the ground and given his own mantis some more problems to worry about, around the area of its abdomen.  Oil and hydraulic fluid gushed forth from it; then the three legs on its left side buckled, and it fell to the ground, narrowly missing Jack.  He leaped onto the ruin he had made of it and grinned in Artophon's direction.  It was a grin with fangs in it.

            I took care of one of the other two.  Jack sidestepped a swipe from the last one and cut its left legs out from under it with a sword.  It collapsed, broken, to the ground.  I smiled to myself.  Five down…

            …and fifteen to go.  Artophon had signaled them, and now the ten who had been guarding the northern and southern gates were coming this way, a set of five from each direction, trampling the fields beneath their churning insect legs as they went.  I managed to take out two from the southern team before the other three leaped at Jack.  The five from the northern team were getting themselves into a circle around him.

            Jack's sword met one of the mantises in midair, slicing off its scything-blade forelegs.  Rendered off-balance by the sudden loss of them, it hit the ground badly, crushing one of its sets of legs beneath it.  It was unable to rise.  Jack landed on it and ducked as one of the other two mantises tried to take a backswing at him and impaled its partner.

Don't you just _love_ friendly fire when it happens to the other guy?  Anyway…

The mantis was unable to get its foreleg out of its comrade's thorax, and both of them went crashing to the ground.  I thought, with a moment of panic, that Jack had been crushed under them, but of course he hadn't – he was rushing at one of the circle of five that were rapidly closing in on him.  I managed to account for another one of those.

With a savage cry that froze the blood in my veins, Jack pounced on his target, his sword a whirling arc, slashing like mad.  He opened several gashes in the bot's body and was sprayed with oil.  I fired another arrow, but this time my shot was not good, and it only hit the target in the thorax.  I cursed to myself.  My shot was not without effect, however – it must have hit something major, because one of the bot's scything blades went limp.  But it was still standing and swinging around with its good foreleg.  I quickly fitted another arrow and prepared to fire, but I noticed the last group of five bots – from the east gate – were arriving.  I picked off one of those instead.  Meanwhile, Jack finished off the "injured" one from my bad shot.

Artophon was raging now, hopping up and down, cursing at the bots as if that would make them perform better.  I was tempted to shoot him, but decided against it, since the remaining bots were a bigger problem.  I only managed to get one of the eastern gate team before the rest got to Jack.

I didn't dare fire another arrow then, for fear of hitting Jack.  I can't describe what it was like to see him, weaving in and out among the scything blades, leaping to avoid them, and once even using one enemy as a platform to jump onto another.  I've heard that there are people who don't believe the stories about what he does with that sword.  But I tell you now, they are all true, though for the most part they fall short of the real thing.

I was so hypnotized that I didn't think to look for Artophon.  When I did, I couldn't find him.  I figured that he must have run off – he was that type.  I turned my attention back to Jack, just as he dispatched the last of the mantises.  It toppled, slowly, and when it hit the ground I jumped up to cheer.

Jack smiled at me from where he stood, and held up his sword in a salute.  His white robe was torn and stained, and I could see even from afar that his shoulders were heaving from exertion.  But we had done it – we had won.

I heard a cheer from behind me, and turned to see the people of the town, leaning out of windows and pouring out of doors, dancing with each other in the streets.

To this day, I think it was my turning around that saved me.

There was a loud cracking noise, and I felt a pain just above my left hip, heard the cheering die away.  I turned and looked down at the source of the pain, touched it with my hand.  My fingers came away red, and a wet stain was spreading through my clothes.

Artophon had been armed after all.  With a gun.  He must have been hiding in the grass…

I looked over the wall and saw Jack running at Artophon, his sword raised over his head.  The demon captain raised his gun again and fired.  Jack jerked backward with the impact of the bullet.  Then the edges of my vision started to darken and blur.  My legs collapsed under me, and I fell to the walkway.

We had come so close to winning.  But we were going to die anyway.

That was the thought in my head as I slipped off into darkness.


	10. Chapter 9: The Anchor to Life

The next sensation I was aware of – and only vaguely – was that of being lifted and carried. For what seemed a long time afterwards, my mind was filled with strange and terrible whispers, horrible shapes and colors pulsing in the darkness at the corners of my eyes. And also the steady, terrible agony in my side.

That seemed to last forever, or at least a goodly portion of forever, before I came back to the real world, and even then I was hanging on to that world by a mere thread.

I felt myself enfolded by softness. A bed. I was lying in a bed. I tried to open my eyes, but my eyelids refused to obey me. I felt panicked, and tried again, but all my strength could not move them. I have read and heard of people saying that they were so weak they could barely move. Not until then did I realize how horrible that was – how your own body can become a prison to you.

I heard the sound of a door opening, and very light footsteps. Then there was a voice.

"You have not slept in two days. You should rrest."

"No, thank you." _Jack's voice!_ _He was alive!_ I felt my heart soar. At least something was right with the world.

"I don't think you will see herr wake, sirr. It is amazing that she has lived so long as it is."

"She will live. She will wake up." _I'm awake, _I wanted to say, but the muscles of my throat barely tightened.

"I would not get my hopes up if I werre you. I am sorrry. I too rregrret it, forr she saved my kitten's life, but this infection is beyond my skill to heal."

Jack said nothing for a few moments. "If she is fated to die, then I will wait until then. But I still hope to see her recover."

"So do I, but I don't think it will happen. Again, I am sorrry, but…you should look to yourr own welfarre, at least."

"Thank you for your concern, but I cannot." A few moments of tense silence. Then the quiet footsteps and the door again.

Then I felt Jack take my right hand and hold it, tightly, as if by doing it he could keep me anchored to life. That feeling became my whole world – and perhaps it did work as an anchor, after all. I cannot say how long that lasted, but the next thing I remember was opening my eyes to see the rafters of the ceiling above me. My side did not feel so bad now.

I turned my head to look to my right – the effort was great, but at least now it was possible. Jack was sitting there in a carven wooden chair, asleep, his head tilted forward. He looked a little thinner, and I could see circles under his eyes. I decided to let him rest. I could talk to him when he woke up. I smiled to myself.

Then the door several feet from the foot of my bed began to creak open, and a little ginger feline face peeked around it. I recognized it – the child I had pulled out of the path of the mantis bot some time before. I smiled at her. Her eyes widened, then she darted back behind the door. Her shout of "_DADA!_" startled Jack into wakefulness; he was on his feet with his sword half out of his scabbard before he figured out what was going on. I heard the thumping footsteps of the child running.

Jack looked around the room and then at me. He smiled then, like sunlight breaking through clouds. He resheathed his sword and bowed to me.

"I am glad to see you awake. How are you feeling?" I noticed that he was still wearing his white robe, and I was pretty sure it was the same one, though it showed no evidence of stitching. I sort of wondered about this, but my thoughts were interrupted when two other people came into the room; the ginger-furred child and her gray father, who had thanked me for saving her.

"A mirracle, prraise the Goddess!" he exclaimed. It was the same voice I had heard conversing with Jack before – he must have been a physician. He turned to his daughter. "Irrine, stop starring, tell yourr mother to get a meal rready."

"Yes Dada!" the child said, and she darted out of the room.

I spent the next several minutes being examined by Nathan, the gray-furred physician. Jack turned away discretely while Nathan replaced my bandages. The wound was a small but fairly serious one – the bullet had not exactly made a hole in me, but it had torn skin and flesh and muscle with its passing. It would be a while before I was recovered from it, he told me.

Irine came up with a food-laden tray. When I smelled the meal my stomach started to rumble, and I realized for the first time just how hungry I was. Irine set the tray on the bed – it had little legs on it for the purpose – and I thanked her. She backed away shyly. I shrugged and turned to eating the food; I had to force myself not to try and wolf it all down.

Nathan and his daughter left the room. I felt it would be a good time to ask Jack about how long it had been and what exactly had happened, so I did. I was intensely curious about it.

"It has been four days," he told me. "And I have spent every minute worrying." That was very sweet indeed, but I didn't say so. It would have embarrassed him.

"As to what happened…where do you want me to start?" he asked, sitting down again.

"When Artophon fired the first shot," I answered.

He settled back in the chair. "I saw you turn, then I heard the gunshot. I thought at first that he had missed, but then you put your hands to your side. I looked to the source of the shot and saw the demon aiming his weapon at me. It was foolish of me to charge him as I did, but I was angry," he admitted, his face hardening a little. "He fired and hit me." Then he waited for me to ask the question.

"So how come you're not wounded? I saw him shoot you, I thought you were dead for sure."

He smiled and reached into his robe, then pulled out the dagger I had given him. He probably had some sort of hidden pocket there. I noticed a small hole in the dagger sheath. He turned it upside-down over the bedside table, and out came the dagger – in two pieces. The blade was broken about two inches from the hilt.

I didn't understand at first, but then comprehension dawned. "The bullet…hit the dagger?"

Jack nodded. "Artophon was too surprised to shoot again." He folded his hands in his lap and looked down at them for a moment. Then he looked back at me. "I ran back into the gate and up the ladder. You were lying there on the walkway. Nathan was already with you, trying to stop the bleeding. Once he had gotten a bandage on, I carried you to his house."

The carrying I remembered, although I had not known who had done it. It was silly, but I felt tears in my eyes. "That was you?"

He nodded. "Nahtan stitched up your wound and put a poultice on it. You were very pale." He closed his eyes and I could swear that he shuddered a little. "The next day, you had a fever. Nathan did not think you would live." Then he smiled. "But you surprised everyone. Except for me."

I felt one of those tears trickle down my cheek and wiped it away. If Jack noticed it – and I'm sure he did – he said nothing.

"I am glad you decided to fight. Without you I would have lost." He looked at his hands again, for longer this time. "I wish you could come with me on my journey, but I cannot wait until you recover. If I stay, Aku will surely send a greater force here, and I do not want to put these people in danger." He met my gaze again, but it seemed to take him some effort to do so. "I am sorry."

My heart was a stone in my chest, but I knew that what he said was true. "I understand." I bit my lip. "When are you leaving?"

"Tomorrow," he answered gravely. "Thank you again. You are a worthy warrior and a good friend." An awkward pause – we seemed to have a lot of those between us. Then Jack lightened up. "And you are as fine an archer as Robin Hood himself."

"Robin who?"

"I trained with him, back in my time. He was the most famous outlaw in all of England…"

For the rest of that day and into the night, we just talked to each other. We did not mention Jack's imminent departure, or the implications of my cooperation with him. I tried to make it last forever, but I dozed off at some point. The next morning he came to say his goodbyes. I wondered if I should ask him to meet me in Cavatera in a few months or something like that, but he might have found a way home before then (though he didn't), or perhaps he would be unable for other reasons (which he was).

I tried not to cry or beg him to wait for me. He had enough problems without me adding my feelings to the list.

The broken dagger he left with me. I had a Cavateran jeweler blowtorch the sharp edges of the broken blade and make a pendant out of it. It's my good-luck charm.

After I recovered, I left Cavatera, but didn't go back to wandering. I follow in Jack's footsteps – the price on my head is a pittance compared to his, but it's more money than I'll see in half a decade. That's something to be proud of.

I intend to find Jack again some day. He moves around a lot, but I'll catch up with him eventually.  Until then…

~The End~


End file.
